Crime Doesn't Pay
by Jedoliath
Summary: Terry comes face to face with a new enemy, and maybe the truth he doesn't want to hear.


"Alrighty, boys," the Detective addressed the group. "I think I've got us a lead." He said proudly, obviously excited that for once he was actually earning the credit bestowed upon him.

"Yeah, and that is?" Terry pursued, getting quite sick of this man and his arrogant attitude.

"Well, at the last bank they robbed, ya' know, the one down on 3rd street?"

"Yes, Williams, we know the place," the impatient Vigilante sighed, "Now could you please get on with it?"

"I'm not telling you with that attitude," Williams said in a huff, to the dismay of every Detective in the room. The Batman just stared at him blankly, using the good old pause technique to get the man to stop being a nuisance and actually help out an investigation once in awhile. "Fine, Batman, but I want you to remember you're only a guest here, and I could get you kicked out of this investigation in the blink of an eye. Okay?"

"Just get on with it, Williams!" A very respected, and hard-working Detective by the name of Steven Gordon yelled, his annoyance rising. Williams wouldn't dare go against this twenty-four year old Detective – so young and yet the most respected Police Officer in Gotham, which, surprisingly had nothing to do with his Mother being the Police Commissioner.

"Yes, well, ummm...what was I talking about again?" Williams said thoughtfully, which made everyone's eyes grow wide in frustration. "Oh, that's right! I was about to tell you all about my breakthrough in this case!" Everyone waited for him to continue, but it seems he was waiting for something as well, a little thing called praise. He didn't get anything of the sort. "Yes, well as I was saying, I have a new lead. I found a partial fingerprint on the window of the bank," he stared at everyone in the room, smiling brightly. His smile dissipated when he realized that nobody was pleased with his iexcellent/i discovery.

"You do realize, Williams, that a partial fingerprint is hardly a lead, as it hardly narrows it down at all, maybe down to the nearest thousand at best. And that's not even taking into consideration that this fingerprint was found at a bank, where any man, women or child could have left their fingerprints. So, your clue will be leading us to the wrong person, and even then it would be impossible to find him 

because of the massive list of possibilities that this fingerprint could belong to," Gordon said to him sternly, as would a teacher to a student who had done something wrong. "Now please, would you save yourself the embarrassment and sit down?" Williams complied, near tears. "Does anyone else have something to share? If not, this meeting is over."

"Actually, I do," Terry offered, standing up. Terry wasn't the most popular person in the room, as many of the Policemen thought him to be a joke, but he was at comfort knowing that Steven had enough respect for him to let him talk,

"Go ahead," he said, "Thank God for that," he muttered to himself.

"These people work in a group, which means they won't be staying at a Residence under their own name, they'll be staying in something under a completely random person's name, maybe a storage warehouse, or a family's home that they left to go on a long holiday. My guess is that they're in some type of warehouse, probably in the Docks area because it allows them to ship out all of their earnings by boat without much suspicion. That, and most of the banks robbed are around that area," Terry paused, looking at his audience, noting that they were finally intrigued, listening. "Further, I took a bullet sample that I found in the roof of the bank, obviously from a warning shot. The thing was, the bullet went right through the solid titanium roof of the bank, and most of the way through the next. The bullet was destroyed beyond belief, but from what I could make out, it is unlike any bullet ever in production. I put it into my database and it came up with nothing but a Police record from China that had a similar finding: they found a bullet that went through 8 walls of steel, over twenty metres, they too could not figure out the origin of the bullet, but noted it down in case it became use to anyone else. This tells us one of two things; they have been to China before, and secondly, they have the money, or a very wealthy employer that can supply them with a new, and obviously experimental type of weapon. That should narrow down our search sufficiently, especially if we can deduce where this bullet was originally made, which shouldn't be hard if we actually get some compliance from other Police Forces." Terry finally finished, sitting down as he did so, hopeful that he had actually given them something to work off.

"Wow, that is quite incredible, Bat. It's not exactly the breakthrough I was hoping for, but it's the best lead we have so far," Steven complimented him. "Alright, team," Steven Gordon said, standing up, "I want a memo sent out to every Police Station that has a computer, I want to know if they've ever heard of a bullet, or a weapon that could be that powerful, I also want someone to get China on the phone and find out everything they know about similar crimes," he took a long pause, obviously trying to sort out the many thoughts jumping around inside his head, "and you," he spoke, gesturing at Batman, "Do 

whatever it is you do." With that, everyone got up and left the room. The sound of creaking chairs had never been so welcoming to the young teenager. Instead of taking the conventional exit, like everyone else, Terry exited through the open window, free-falling ten metres through the air before opening his arms wide and kicking the rocket-boosters on the bottom of his feet into life.

Mid-flight, Terry happened to glance at the on-screen clock on the monitor installed in his lenses in his suit. It was Eight-Fifty, ten minutes to school starts, and Terry hadn't even had breakfast yet. The flying man went into a barrel-roll in the air, spiraling down, past Wayne Tower and down into the busy streets of Gotham City. He quickly scanned the streets, searching for a good place to change. He spotted an alleyway, just as he past it. Terry shut off his left thruster, folded away his left wing and spun back round. As soon as he was facing the alley he opened his arm once more and kicked his thruster back on, rocketing forward into the dark alleyway. He skidded to a halt and quickly ripped off his suit and stuff it in his bag. He looked at his cellphone, noticing that he had less than sixty seconds to get into class before he got yet another after school detention. He shot off as fast as he would if he had rockets on his feet and tore down the alleyway, vaulted a fence and found himself in the school field. He spotted his classroom on the second floor of the building, just above him. If he managed to make it up there, he could just pretend he was out on the balcony the entire time. He only had 3 seconds before the bell rang, and if he made it up there his excuse would still give him at least a minute, but how the hell would he get up there?

And then he saw it, a plastic pole running up the greater half of the wall, and from the top he guessed he could reach the banister and pull himself up. Unfortunately, it didn't work out that way, as the plastic pipe gave way halfway up, and Terry found himself toppling backwards. Luckily he had the sense to land on his feet this time, but the pole made a hell of a noise, and soon he found himself in the principal's office, getting a lecture on many things, all of which he'd heard many times before.

Terry could tell this was going to be a long day.

After an hour of Detention, Terry finally emerged from the place that now made him feel bad about putting all those people in prison. The entire day had been hell on Earth; Terry was finding it extremely hard to concentrate when his whole being had been focusing on that group of Armed Robbers earlier in the day. It was once again time for Terry to do what Detective Williams never could; save the day.

Batman once again rose at night, because in Gotham City, Dawn only comes at night. Terry arrived at Bruce Wayne's Mansion, he'd been here many times before but somehow he was still in awe of how 

massive the whole thing was. He couldn't understand, how one man managed to use up all that space. Had he even been in all of those rooms? There must have been over 200 rooms in the house, at least, not including the hidden cave beneath. Hell, if Terry decided to move in, Bruce wouldn't realize he was there for at least four years. The house was actually quite ancient by present standards, but in its antiquity, it held a beauty that only the obsessed could truly appreciate. But in Wayne's old days he probably had no care for holding parties, so he needn't worry about what people thought of his place anyway. But, come to think of it, Bruce probably never liked parties. From here, Terry could see the same small mountain that held a hologram that fooled even the most cunning of minds into thinking you were about to crash and die a horrible death, when you just sped on through without a hitch. The young man himself had been caught by that trick when Bruce had decided it would be fun to take a joyride in the old Batmobile.

Terry sighed, the memories could be seen as negative, but strangely, those memories of his time spent with Bruce were somehow happy times. No matter how much embarrassment or how many lectures he'd faced, any time with that man had been something to remember, but Terry could not for the life of him figure out why. With all his potential as a Detective, he couldn't figure out what made that old man so special. The boy shrugged it off and walked inside the mansion, without bothering to knock, even with the Batsuit on he couldn't knock hard enough for Bruce to hear even one room away in this massive house. Terry obviously figured that his Mentor would be down in the Batcave, probably toiling over another case, or maybe even the one he was working on right now. Terry only hoped that Bruce wouldn't keep him here too long, because he told his Mum that he was going out to the library, and he couldn't be there all night like he usually had to do – no kid was that devoted to anything.

Sure enough, the former Vigilante was down in the Batcave, bent over the keyboard slowly tapping away. Terry could see on the screen a database of bullets, presumably involved with the armed robber case.

"Any progress?" Bruce questioned Terry, swiveling on his chair and turning to face him,

"Not yet, I told the Police what we found out and we're contacting every single Police Station for information, but nothing yet."

"You mean that _you_ found, I had no part in it, Terry. You're turning out to be a great detective." Bruce told him, which was a rare compliment from a hardened man such as Bruce Wayne.

"Well what are we doing tonight?" Batman asked, "Scouring the docks in search of clues? Revisiting some of the older crime scenes?"

"I think you should head to the Docks, scope it out a bit. Who knows what you might uncover. But, I'm saying this for the first and probably last time; don't stay up late, because we don't want you grounded for the couple of nights after that. Is that clear, Terry?"

"Crystal," Terry replied back, a little excited that his Mentor cared if he got grounded or not, even if it was for something other than Terry's benefit. The young man quickly reached into his bag and pulled out the Batsuit, wrenching it on as if his life depended on it, as the elderly man returned to the computer, clicking through files trying to search for any clues.

Terry jogged over to the small Jet, parked not far away. He hopped in, started it up, and felt it roar to life beneath him, the engine's vibrations rumbling through him came as a massive relief after a day of Geometry and Uptight teachers. The Batman slammed his foot down on the accelerator of the Jet, flying off at a speed, far too fast for the narrow tunnel out of the Batcave.

He spun out of the tunnel rolling, risking his life before he even left the Property. He continued to spin until he saw the ground coming up, fast. He timed it perfectly, pulling up at exactly the right moment, his left wing cutting the grass beneath, missing the hard dirt but milimetres. Terry laughed as he heard the disgruntled growl from the other end of his communication mike, "Sorry Bruce, just needed to liven things up a bit."

Terry set the jet down just before the docks, activating the armour mode as he got out, covering it in thick metal that would be virtually impenetrable, unless you dropped something like a Hydrogen bomb on it. The Vigilante fired upwards, so that he was standing on a container. But ahead of him was a literal stairway of containers, from there Terry would be able to see most of the docks, undetected. And as he reached the top, touching down, he saw all five banks that had been previously robbed by the gang. From here, he could easily mark out his next target, or even direct the gang using a telescope and a walkie-talkie, to warn them if the Police, or Security were coming. Terry quickly looked around the container he was on, within seconds he found a smudge of mud on the top of the metal frame. It looked like it had been wiped off a shoe. Batman stuck his finger into the gooey liquid, and instantly a small list 

popped up on his monitor. From what Terry could decipher, it was a unique kind of mud that could only be found in Africa, and a Marsh just on the outskirts of New York City.

"Bruce, did you get that?" Terry keyed into his mike,

"Yes I did, you better inform the Police first thing in the morning, but for now, go home and get a couple of hours sleep, then head off to the Police Station and wrap this case up."

"Will do," Terry replied, shutting off the conversation. He quickly flicked on his wristwatch, and spoke into it "Command: Return to Batcave." Terry watched as the Bat Jet rose into the air and shot off towards the Batcave, going too slow for Terry's liking.

iTime for bed/i Terry thought with dismay.

The league of Detectives shuffled into the room, Williams following behind, his head held down in sorrow.

"Okay, guys, Batman has something new for us, as we couldn't come up with anything I suggest we listen to him," Steven Gordon told the Detectives before sitting down. Terry approached the front of the room, a little nervous about what he had to tell them; what if he was wrong, and they all went over to a marsh, got covered in mud to find nothing. Terry just knew that Williams would eat it up – the Golden Boy brought down to his level, even though Terry doubted anyone could sink to his level.

"Last night, I took a trip to the docks. I flew to the top of a staircase of containers to get a better view of the Warehouses in the area. And then I noticed that from up there, I could see every single bank that had been attacked from here, in full-view. If one of their men had a Telescope, they could tell the ones at the bank where to go or if there were Police coming. The only person who would have ever gone up there would have been someone who needed to look out on the city, so I searched around, and found some mud that in America can only be found in one Marsh, a marsh just outside of New York City. That's where their hideout will be," Terry finished, a triumphant smirk lining his face.

"So I guess we go down there, then?" Williams asked, stating the obvious.

"Yeah, I guess so," Batman replied, trying to give the Detective back some of his dignity. All of the Police Officers in the room quickly jogged out. Gordon went to the phone, to obviously call for the Special Forces Squad to come for back-up. "I'll see you there," Terry said, nodding at Gordon, who nodded back in the midst of a pause in conversation. Terry was lucky that his school was having a late start today, otherwise he would have been toast. School was the last thing on his mind as he took a flying leap out of the window, spreading his wings and soaring ahead, beneath him Police Cars zig-zagged through early morning traffic, and above him Helicopters struggled to keep up with him.

Batman touched down just near the Marsh, trying to avoid the muddy area just in case he sank and found himself in an embarrassing situation. Only seconds went by before the first of the Squad Cars arrived, and at exactly the same time Batman could see a small dot which he knew was a Helicopter in the sky.

iTime for Dawn./i

Terry jogged along beside the dozens of Detectives with their weapons drawn, knowing that the S.F.S would show up any minute they decided to wait just in the bushes outside the small wooden shack where they presumed the Criminals were. Terry didn't feel like waiting, he just went on ahead. He placed his index and forefinger on the rotten looking wood that was supposed to be the sturdy protective wall of a house. Instantly noise jumped to life in his ears, but it was just one noise, the noise of someone moving around, and an incredibly familiar sound, the sound of tearing flesh.

The Vigilante's eyes darted back to where the Detectives were hiding, alarm on his face, hoping to alert them to what he had just heard. When they didn't make a move Terry decided he'd have to go alone. He darted over to the window, took one step back, and then dove right through, holding his forearm over his eyes as glass streamed into his face. Terry went into a roll as the floor came dangerously close, emerging on his feet to the sight of a man, dressed in a long, brown trench coat. Beneath the trench coat, Batman could hear the soft chinking of different pieces of metal bouncing off of each other. This man was a walking armoury of weapons, and he had a face to match the brutality he probably caused with those weapons. It was scarred, burned and twisted, as if somebody had purposely sculpted it into the definition of horror.

"I don't want to hurt you," the man suddenly spoke in a raspy voice.

"Do you even know who I am?" Terry replied, in a very condescending manner.

"Yes, Terry, I know who you are." Terry reeled back in shock, his worst nightmare suddenly coming to life. "Don't worry, I won't let the world know your dirty little secret, even if you decide to fight me – which wouldn't be the best idea you've ever had."

"H-h-how do you know who I am?" Terry stuttered, due to his absolute disbelief,

"Let's just say; it takes one to know one," the Vigilante said with a smile, turning back to his work on the bodies. Batman leaned over and noticed what the man was doing for the first time; he had carved a note into the flesh of each man in turn, saying: "Crime Doesn't Pay". The man then turned and said to Terry, "You know, we're much the same, only I can see we hold different ethics for when we actually catch the criminals. But I know all about your past, Terry, I know more than you know yourself, and it's a pity that I won't tell, because I can sense you readying yourself to strike me down, like the insignificant punks you throw in prison everyday. They don't even deserve that, Terry, no they deserve a much worse fate, a fate you can only experience in the one place: Hell," the Vigilante paused for a second, his brow furrowed, contemplating. "Join me."

"No, it goes against everything I stand for, against everything my parents stood for," Terry looked down at his chest, "and against everything this symbol represents,"

"What do you mean everything your parents _stood_ for, Terry? Why did you suddenly jump to past-tense?"

Back at the Batcave, Bruce was listening intently. He knew who this man was, and he wanted to desperately yell at Terry to get the hell out of here, because if he continued to talk to this man for any longer, something horrible might come to the surface.

_iIs it time to tell him? No, he can't know the truth – this city needs a Batman._ /i

"I know what you're doing," Terry told him, "You're trying to get inside my head, and psych me out, but it's not going to work, Scarface, you're going down." Terry leaped forward, pushing all of his power into his legs and catching the confident Vigilante off-guard. Terry spun, dropping Flash Pellets as he did so, his eye-guards instantly dropping down to protect his face. The man was momentarily blinded, but the Bat knew that it wouldn't be for long, he expected more of this i_criminal/i_. Terry raised his arm, firing off a grappling hook which sailed right past the Vigilante's shoulder.

"Even though I can't see, I could tell you were close. Better luck next time, Bat."

"I'm sorry, was that meant to be an insult?" Terry laughed, reeling in the grappling hook, causing it to catch the Vigilante in the back of his shoulder and stick in, tearing into his flesh. The force yanked Batman off his feet, but only to his fortune, as he went sailing through the air, his foot smashing into the Scar-covered face of the Vigilante. "Now you can spend some time in prison, and then you can see which you would prefer; prison, or hell. Let me know when you've decided, and maybe I could arrange something for you," Terry threatened him, not truly meaning it.

"Good work, Terry," Bruce randomly spoke into Terry's mike.

"Why so quiet when I actually need you?" Terry asked, genuinely confused,

"Just seeing how you handled things by yourself," Bruce lied,

"Something doesn't match about that…"

"Stop being silly and get back here! I've got a new case for you to work on!" The old man screamed into the mike.

"Okay, okay!"


End file.
